


love;verb: How Do You Feel it Best?

by ElloPoppet



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Acts of Kindness, Apologies, Canon Autistic Character, Comfort, Eye Contact, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Gift Giving, Light Angst, Love Languages, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, POV Neil Melendez, Pining, Slow Burn, Sweet, Talking, Texting, Touching, Trauma, compliments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElloPoppet/pseuds/ElloPoppet
Summary: Five times when Shaun showed Neil love, and one time when Neil returned the sentiment.
Relationships: Claire Browne & Neil Melendez, Neil Melendez/Shaun Murphy
Comments: 75
Kudos: 476





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom, and I really want to make mention that 1. I am not a doctor so holy wow, strap in for some horrific medical nonsense, and 2. It will probably take time for me to get comfortable with Neil and Shaun as characters, so if there is some OOC it is 100% accidental and all on me. 
> 
> Also hi there, and thank you for joining me in rarepair hell, where I live 24/7.

Like many life changing events, it starts with catastrophe.

Neil doesn’t know how many hours they’ve been on their feet but if he had to guess, he would toss out a number that was verging dangerously close to the perilous thirty-hour mark that would mean Andrews would start barking at them to leave soon, lest he and his residents start breaking laws. 

It was ridiculous, really. What did _laws_ matter when they were saving lives?

It wasn’t as though they had all been working for over a day straight through. Neil might be tough, but he was far from being an idiot. His residents took shifts, eight hours on and two hours off to refuel. Whether that meant sleeping (he hoped), eating (at least a protein bar), or socializing (he had gotten rather snippy with Morgan for not using her break time productively), it wasn’t up to him. Which, in the long run, was all fine and well because Neil would be damned if he was going to have his precious time wasted by Shaun arguing back that “Actually, Dr. Melendez, the best use of my time is to continue reading through this enormous stack of medical texts until I discover either a long-forgotten or revolutionary procedure that will help save the lives of patients x, y, and z.”

It wouldn’t be worded quite the same, Neil figured, but he could nearly hear the unintentional defiance in Shaun’s tone. It had led Neil to simply toss an apple Shaun’s way when he passed the staff room instead of harping on him for reading when he should be resting. That had been on Shaun’s second two-hour break, and as he was pretty sure Shaun hadn’t been in sight for the last thirty minutes or so, that could only mean...

“...what are you still doing here?”

Even when it was expected, Andrews’ voice caused Neil to startle. 

“I’m just out for a stroll, Marcus. There’s nothing like the fluorescents in trauma three first thing in the morning, so I figured I’d go catch a leisurely view.” 

Andrews pointedly ignored the sarcasm and pressed on, joining Neil on his trip toward trauma three. “You’re wearing the same scrubs that I saw you in yesterday.” At Neil’s raised eyebrows, Andrews heaved a sigh. “There’s a thread coming loose on the sleeve.”

“I’m waiting for your point. Is it that I’ve noticed that you’ve changed your clothes since yesterday? Congratulations, I’ll be sure to share my excitement over your wardrobe choices with the embolism patient that I’m about to scrub in for. I’m positive she’ll be delighted, but I’ll report back when I’m through.” The door to trauma three was quickly approaching, and Neil nearly tripped directly into Andrews when the head of surgery neatly blocked his entry.

“Go home, Melendez.”

Neil didn’t blink, choosing instead to stare at Andrews blankly.

“Melendez. Home. Now. I don’t want to see your face or hear your voice until your next shift tomorrow morning.” Andrews didn’t blink either, and Neil could feel his eye twitch.

“You’re being ridiculous. I’m ready for this surgery; patient’s prepped, and I’m probably the last one to scrub in-”

“Lim’s already scrubbed in, and she has Reznick and Park in with her. Fryday didn’t even let me get to the board before informing me that you’ve been going for twenty-nine hours with no breaks-”

“I’ve been taking breaks,” Neil interrupts, his eyelids feeling tacky as he finally blinks away the stinging dryness. Andrews had blinked first, anyway. “I’ve even eaten.”

Andrews crosses his arms, which has never once, in Neil’s experience, been a good sign. “A Cliff bar, an apple and a trail of Keurig pods does not a meal make. Not to mention that you haven’t slept. Would you allow any of your residents to operate in the condition that you’re in right now?”

Neil thought for a moment, feeling a swell of defensiveness rise in his chest. “Of course not, and you know that. But they’re new, and this is their first mass trauma-”

“Would you like to know who you sound like right now? You sound like Reznick.”

Neil clamps his mouth shut at that. _Oh, goddammit._

“Fine,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “Let me take you through the board, check in on Browne and Murphy, and do one more round for-”

“I snapped a picture of the board, Browne just got off of her last two hour about forty-five minutes ago and is completing said rounds as we speak, and Murphy is actually finished with his shift yet insists that he keep researching best procedural practices for Lim’s next bone fragment removal until he’s hit his thirty-hour mark. Now, if you’re thoroughly satisfied that I’m able to run my department and handle what must be, oh, the fiftieth or so mass trauma that I’ve worked at this hospital, feel free to follow my direct order to go home and go the hell to sleep.”

It was in that moment that Neil recognized how frustratingly _right_ Andrews was, because for the life of him he couldn’t think of a single retort, serious or otherwise. Andrews seemed to recognize that the fight was won, and he nodded once. 

“Sleep well, Neil, and I’ll see you no earlier than eight o’clock tomorrow morning.” With that, Andrews disappeared into trauma three, no doubt to check that everyone was scrubbed in, in place and had no needs before they began the embolism resection. Defeated, and with the knowledge that he no longer needed to be fully awake, aware and conscious, Neil turned around and headed down the hallway, back from where he had come. 

By the time he made it to the staff lounge, his limbs and eyelids were so heavy that he could barely push the door open to get inside. The room was dark, with only a few dimmed lamps casting yellowed lights from the corners of the space. It was early on a Tuesday morning and this lounge, being more sparsely furnished than a few of the others and having no cots or bunks tucked away behind a partition or into an oversized closet, was nearly empty. 

As predicted, Shaun was the room’s only occupant and he was so quietly absorbed in what he was reading that Neil decided against a verbal check-in. As he walked past the table where Shaun sat he found himself nearly reaching out to place a hand on Shaun’s shoulder and _damn, I’m officially exhausted. When did that happen?_

Neil simply kept walking, tucking his hand into his scrub pockets as he made his way toward his locker at the back of the room lest he nearly do something incredibly stupid or disrespectful like touch his resident who very openly did not like to be touched, at least without verbal consent or warning. He could see his locker plain as day, not a dozen strides from where he was...and yet two seconds later Neil was throwing himself onto the sofa, not a thought in his head about it. 

“Hello, Dr. Melendez,” Shaun said, finally breaking the thick silence in the room. 

“Murphy,” Neil mumbled in acknowledgement, mostly into the cushion of the couch as he maneuvered himself onto his stomach, arms tucked under his chest. Sure, he had been directed by the head of his department to go home, but nobody would care if he caught a twenty minute (or six hour) nap here first, right?

“You’re going to cut off your circulation if you fall asleep as you are now,” Shaun commented, sounding like himself for all intents and purposes, the only evidence of his sleep deprivation a slight slowing of his words. “It would be much better if you removed your arms from beneath your sternum.”

“‘M comfy,” Neil said, and it didn’t come out as snappishly as he would have liked, “and it’s cold in here.”

“Would you not be more comfortable with a blanket? Or in your own bed at home?”

Neil thought for a moment. “The warm blankets are for the patients. And I’ll go home, just after...gotta rest my eyes first.”

“Your eyes will not-”

“Speaking of home, Murphy, go. To yours. No point in you sticking around for another hour when it’s a break anyway. Bus’ll be here soon.” Neil yawned loudly and wiggled further into the back of the couch. 

“I do not have to leave prior to thirty hours of work, by law, and with so many surgeries on the board for the day I should be trying to help in any way that I can.”

Neil heard Shaun stifle a yawn of his own at the end of his response, and he felt himself smile into the cushion. 

“Suit yourself, Shaun,” Neil murmured, drifting off steadily. “I’m just gonna-”

*

It was roughly an hour later when Neil jolted awake at the sound of his name being repeated from somewhere above him. 

“Dr. Melendez, wake up please. Dr. Melendez, I have a question that I would like for you to answer so that I can go home because my thirty hours are up. Dr. Melen-”

“What is it, Murphy?” Neil recognized the voice, of course he did, and he recognized the soreness in his arms and back due to his sleeping position, which reminded him of where he was, when it was and why. Rather than focusing on swimming toward the surface, he clung on to the tendrils of sleep still holding fast. 

“Would it be okay if I did you a favor that likely involved making contact with you?”

The question was an intriguing one and Neil nearly opened his eyes, but deemed it unnecessary in the last moment. “Sure. Just don’t go near...don’t touch my ribs, mkay?”

‘Why would I touch your ribs and why would you not like them touched?” Shaun asked, and then Neil felt himself shrouded in something soft and warm, so warm. He felt Shaun pull at the bottom of the blanket near his feet, and then felt as one by one his shoes were removed before his legs and feet were also covered. It was _magnificent,_ warm and cozy.

“Ticklish,” Neil remembered to answer far too late. It seemed like Shaun had asked him questions ages ago, hours if not days, and Neil felt sleep start to pull him under again swiftly. 

“Okay,” came Shaun’s accepting reply before the blanket was adjusted at his shoulders. Neil knew he should thank Shaun, knew that Shaun doing this for him felt like something big, but he was too tired and too close to losing consciousness. 

In fact, it would be two hours later when Neil awoke that he would even think to question whether or not the soft brush of a hand in his hair had actually happened before Shaun left him to sleep, or if it was something he had simply dreamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, patient readers!
> 
> I have two comments and one promise.
> 
> Comment one: Y'all are spectacular. Thank you for every read, comment, kudos and warm welcome into this lovely fandom. I appreciate everyone reading this to no end. 
> 
> Comment two: I have zero timeline for this fic. I would love to say that I will update it once a week or even with more frequency, as I don't plan on the chapters being very long or the fic being more than 10k overall, but life is suddenly overwhelming and therefore I will not make promises that I cannot keep. 
> 
> Which leads me to...a promise! Heh. I have never left a WIP unfinished, and I will not leave this fic unfinished. Certainly not forever, and also not for an extended period of time. So while updates may not be regular, they will happen. Cross my heart. 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy fluff, a wee bit of angst, and also more fluff (IDK about you, but my god do I need lovely warm feels after this week's episode of TGD (S3E16) which left me feeling like a broken gal).

As much as he loved being a surgeon and was damn good at it, Neil was never great at compartmentalizing. 

That would probably come as a surprise to those around him, from his superiors to his residents, the nurses who surrounded him every day and the patients who trusted their lives in his capable hands. He thought he did a fine job at teaching his pupils to compartmentalize, could explain the process and the importance of doing so perfectly and would encourage them to put it into practice as though their careers depended on it. 

What was the old adage? Do as I say, not as I do?

The fallout from the building collapse lasted far longer than thirty hours. In those thirty hours alone, there had been six casualties, not to mention the victims who had been called as DOA once the ambulances unloaded them at the curb. The ICU was flooded, as were the ICUs of the surrounding trauma centers, and over the next three days patients were airlifted, operating rooms were filled, patients were discharged and patients died. 

It was overwhelming for all of them, and Neil questioned whether or not he had any right to claim that it was most overwhelming for him. 

Sure, the residents looked wrecked. It was the most disheveled Neil had ever seen Morgan, Claire looked exhausted, Alex somehow became more and more stoic as the hours dragged on, and Shaun was all but internally contained, shut off and emotionally heightened all at once. Neil? Neil was _pissed_. A patient had hemorrhaged out on his table earlier that morning, there was nothing he could do to seep the frustration and bone-deep desperation from his residents, and all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Shaun or perhaps cover him with a blanket the way Shaun had done for him and he _couldn’t_ and didn’t even know why he felt like he _needed to_. 

_Loss is hard on all of us, but it’s especially hard for him,_ Neil reminded himself, before pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, willing the tired burn to dissipate. 

There was a brief tapping on the door of the consultation room before Glassman walked in, plastic bags in his hands, delicious smells wafting in after him when he stepped inside. 

“Something tells me that you all haven’t been taking the best care of yourselves,” he remarked, setting the bags of food down on the table before them. Alex jumped up instantly and started to pull out the small white boxes, moving faster than Neil had seen him move all day. 

“Is that something’s name Shaun?” Morgan bit out. Claire rolled her eyes.

“I am not a something,” Shaun remarked with a bit of brightness and a lot of sterness as Glassman passed over a specifically marked box. Shaun took it carefully and his shoulders relaxed a fraction when he opened it and peered at the contents inside.

“Children,” Neil admonished dryly. “Thank you, Aaron.”

Glassman nodded once before picking up a container himself and heading back toward the door. “You all,” he said, making a sweeping gesture, “make sure _that one_ ” he pointed his finger and his gaze directly at Neil, “eats as well. And I expect every last one of you to leave after your next surgeries, regardless of outcome. Am I understood?”

Silence with interladen sounds of quiet chewing filled the air. 

“I will take every single piece of this food back to where it came from,” Glassman threatened.

“Understood,” Claire remarked, and smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Glassman.”

“Yes, sir,” Morgan chippered. “Thank you so much.”

“Dr. Glassman,” Alex nodded.

“That’s right.” Glassman left the room, the chewing continued, and soon conversation filled the air about the food, Shaun ratting out their awful self-care habits to their president, the two surgeries in which they would be assisting that afternoon, plans for days off. 

Neil closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, letting their chatter fill his mind, a small strand of contentment easing its way in. A small moment of normality was exactly what they had needed, what _he_ had needed, and he savored it, wanting to hold onto it for as long as possible.

He didn’t fall asleep; rather, Neil drifted, precariously balanced between wakefulness and unconsciousness. He felt time passing them by and heard the residents start to clean up, heard Claire as she fixed him a plate and sat it down in front of him before heading off to her surgery with Lim, Alex heading out with her. Morgan announced that she was heading to the practice lab before her, Shaun and Neil were scheduled for their own operation shortly.

Neil knew that Shaun remained. Not that Shaun made himself known; on the contrary, Shaun was silent, blissfully so. Neil hadn’t heard him leave. Aside from that, Neil also knew that Shaun wouldn’t simply walk away without having ensured that he had done whatever he needed to do in order to fulfill Aaron’s parting demand. 

“I’m not hungry,” Neil commented, beating Shaun to what would undoubtedly be an insistent punch. 

“I did not ask if you were hungry.”

“No,” Neil opened one eye, squinting at where Shaun was sitting ramrod straight at the table, own food box neatly packaged back up in front of him. He was gazing in Neil’s general direction, and Neil felt the corners of his mouth quirk up. “But you _were_ going to tell me that I needed to eat.”

“Dr. Glassman-”

“Doesn’t dictate my eating habits.”

Shaun faltered at that, shoulders slumping slightly for a fraction of a second before hitching right back up. 

“You would tell us that we need to eat to ensure our energy levels are appropriate for operating. Just like you would tell us that we need proper sleep. Yet you did not eat, and sleeping upright is not proper.”

Neil opened both eyes fully and stretched his arms above his head, both shoulders popping in satisfying protest. “I would, you’re right. And I would be right to do so. You are my residents and it’s my job to help guide you into good habits. If it helps to placate your concern, I ate breakfast this morning, I wasn’t sleeping just now and I don’t really care for...this.” Neil waved his hand at the plate in front of him. “Not that I don’t appreciate it. I just know that Nurse Applewood also hasn’t eaten all day and this is from her favorite restaurant.” Neil met Shaun’s flickering, brief gaze and shrugged his shoulders before his eyes were distracted by the small smile dancing across Shaun’s mouth.

“If you weren’t asleep, what were you doing?”

Neil thought for a beat. “I was relaxing. Enjoying the moment. Listening to you all get on each other’s nerves and act like you’ve never eaten before.”

Shaun seemed to mull that over before nodding once, bringing his fingertips together as Neil noticed he did sometimes when he was pleased with an assessment he had drawn. 

“You like it when we’re all okay.”

Neil felt his eyebrows rise before he could control it. “Well, yeah, Murphy. Of course I do.”

“It makes you...happy.”

“It does.”

“It hasn’t always.”

The nonchalance with how the words stumbled from Shaun’s lips made hearing them all the more painful. The statement not only sliced through Neil’s chest like a blade, but twisted as well, so much so that it was difficult to draw a breath and suddenly not only was Neil _not hungry_ , but he was also _nauseous._

“Murphy.” Neil shook his head. “ _Shaun._ I-you’re right. You know you’re right, I don’t have to tell you that. I’m- I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before, or I’ve tried to show you before, but obviously it’s still on your mind and, well, it’s still on mine sometimes, too.” Neil paused and drew a breath, the blade still heavy in his chest. “You’re right. That wasn’t always the case, but it has been for a long time now and it will continue to be that way moving forward. Seeing all of you, each and every one of you, happy, safe and growing as doctors brings me joy and makes me happy. I’m sorry I ever felt anything different.”

Neil bit his lip then, not knowing what else to say as a barrage of awful memories flooded his brain. Memories of being downright _cruel_ to Shaun when they had first met, memories of treating Shaun as _other_ rather than _valuable_. It made him want to-

“I know you are sorry. You are forgiven. That wasn’t always the case, but it has been for a long time now and it will continue to be that way moving forward.”

Neil blinked, chin jerking upward as he gaped in Shaun’s direction. At Shaun, whose eyes were shining just a touch, and whose cheeks had dusted pink.

Neil’s heart started beating again, sweetly this time and without pain.

“Well then. Thank you, Shaun.”

Shaun stood, picked up his box of takeout lightly, and tucked in his chair before heading toward the exit. Before walking completely past, he stopped by Neil’s side and looked down, meeting Neil’s eyes for a solid few moments. 

_His eyes are so incredibly blue._

“You are welcome, Neil. I will see you in surgery.”

*

The next morning, when Neil walked into his office, he was surprised to see a food bag sitting in the middle of his desk. The top was folded and stapled closed but he recognized the branding on the outside of the bag immediately, and with delighted curiosity he peeled off the sticky note that was stuck to the top.

The writing was small and neat, and Neil would have recognized it immediately even without the signature. 

_Dr. Melendez,_

_Nurse Applewood was very helpful in letting me know that your favorite breakfast cafe is called Whispers. I hope you enjoy this Greek omelette, as it seems both tasty and nutritionally balanced, and I recall you mentioning once that you enjoy omelettes._

_Your Resident,  
Dr. Shaun Murphy_

Neil set the post-it note gently on his desk and touched his hand to his lips, grinning so hard that it should have hurt, but didn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

It would take a few more weeks for Neil to realize that Shaun was acting differently toward him. 

After all, Shaun had been making progress with all of them over the year that he had been part of his team of residents. It wasn’t that Shaun was getting _better_ , of course, because there was nothing to _get better_ about Shaun. Rather, Neil had recognized that Shaun was becoming more comfortable around them, and had been learning how to integrate them into his daily experiences and expectations. It was something that everyone had to do; adjust to being part of a new work environment, being part of a new team. With Shaun, the process was different, the amount of time extended compared to what Neil was used to seeing. 

And he was glad to have started to notice it over the last few months. 

The team, of course, had also had to pull their heads out of their asses and adapt to Shaun as well. For Claire it had seemed so easy, but Neil supposed that that was just...Claire. She was rife with empathy and understanding, with the ability to adjust to the needs of others. It was part of what made her a damn good doctor already at such an early stage (it was also part of what led her to making damn _awful_ mistakes at times as well, but she was learning). Alex, though newer to them, had also seemed to learn Shaun’s proverbial language easier than Neil had. Neil liked to pretend that it didn’t irk him. 

Neil liked to lie to himself, sometimes. 

He couldn’t quite peg Shaun and Morgan’s relationship, but he still somehow admired it. The brutal honesty tiptoed on the edge of bullying at times when it came to Morgan, and Neil had been tempted to jump down her throat just days prior until he heard Shaun shut her down with a straightforward and frankly cutting response of his own. 

Neil forgot sometimes that Shaun didn’t require rescuing. Rather than jumping down Morgan’s throat he wound up jumping down his own instead. Every day with Shaun was a learning experience for Neil, so it seemed. 

For the two of them, after Neil had gotten over his own frankly disgusting prejudices toward Shaun in the beginning and had taken the time and put in the work to see Shaun, really _see_ him for the man he was rather than a diagnosis on a piece of paper, growth had come steadily. Neil liked to think that they held each other in esteem and rotated around each other on a plateau of mutual respect. There were still struggles, of course, and there always would be while Shaun was Neil’s resident; it was the nature of the relationship. Residents would always challenge Neil on something before they were ready or fully equipped to do so. It was part of their learning curve. And at times, rarely but Neil conceded that it would happen, he would struggle with accepting that a resident was indeed ready for a procedure, for a challenge, to face something head on. 

Growth could be a two way street; Neil was a lot of things, but he wasn’t infallible to being mistaken.

He was lost in that line of thought as he sat at his desk, going over charts for the day before heading home on a nondescript Thursday evening. Things were beginning to return to normal within the halls of the hospital following the building collapse; all but three of the patients had been discharged, transferred, or had succumbed to their injuries. The team was starting to get back into their typical rhythm and flow, with the added bonus of new skills, sturdier self-care boundaries and fastidious bonding between them that often occurred following mucking through a trauma such as they had. 

There was another difference. One that took Neil a few days to really pinpoint. It lived just outside of his periphery, flitting in and out of his mind’s eye and it took a meaningful fifteen minutes of focused thinking to really zero in on what had changed between him and Shaun since the crisis. 

Shaun was _being attentive_. Not that he wasn’t always. As a surgeon and a doctor, it damn well may have been his biggest strength by Neil’s estimation. But no, no. This was different. Shaun was being attentive...to Neil. 

Covering him with a blanket as he slept. Encouraging him to eat. Bringing him food (and it wasn’t just the once, either. Shaun had a gift for getting the nurses to be gabby when it came to spilling secrets about where Neil liked to eat. When Neil had insisted that Shaun stop bringing him food lest the other residents accuse him of bribery, Shaun had simply started bringing everyone food). Neil noticed that Shaun would leave articles printed and stapled on his desk, articles that Neil may have briefly mentioned having interest in reading over casual discussion over case consults. Shaun _held the door_ for Neil for the first time in over a year. It wasn’t a Shaun thing to do, but he had done it. 

Neil let out a breath into the empty room before grabbing a case file from the top of the stack on his desk. His bafflement would have to wait until the next day; these charts wouldn’t sign themselves.

*

“Dr. Murphy, stay back please.”

Shaun paused abruptly where he stood, having intended to follow Alex to the skills lab. Alex let the door close behind him and Neil bit the inside of his cheek as Shaun turned around, smoothing the front of his white coat as he did so. 

_Nervous._

“Take a seat.” Neil gestured to the empty seats at the table in the case consult room and crossed one leg over another, leaning back. He wanted to appear as relaxed as possible, wanted to be as reassuring as possible to Shaun that he wasn’t in any kind of trouble. 

“Okay.” Shaun stepped forward and pulled out the seat closest to Neil, sitting down promptly. Neil felt his eyes widen a bit before he could stop himself from reacting; Shaun was close, closer than Neil had come to expect. Close enough for Neil to feel the heat of Shaun’s thigh on his own knee, a bare millimeter separating them from touching. 

Neil cleared his throat. 

“I just wanted to touch base with you, Dr. Murphy. You’ve been providing increasingly competent patient care and your standard of surgical practice continues to be above expectations, so I would like to start this conversation by assuring you that this is not a disciplinary discussion and you are in no way being reprimanded, understood?” Neil kept his eyes directed toward Shaun’s, whose own flitted back and forth between Neil’s gaze and a spot directly behind his left shoulder. 

The tension that drained from Shaun was palpable; he exhaled deeply and his rigid frame relaxed slightly, his posture falling enough to cause the side of his leg to move and come to rest against Neil’s. Neil fought the urge to pull away as though burned; he also fought a warring urge to push into the contact closer, drawn in by Shaun’s sudden warmth and obvious comfort.

“Thank you, Dr. Melendez. What do you want to talk about?”

The words caught in Neil’s throat as he realized that he...he didn’t know _what_ he wanted to say. Seconds ticked by, dragging dangerously close to half a minute gone, before he cleared his throat. 

“Doct-Shaun. Do you feel as though your standing at this hospital or on this team is under threat of termination?” 

Shaun looked quizzical for a moment, but not stressed. “As you just said it is not, no.”

Neil felt himself smiling. “Well, that’s good. But before I said that?”

Shaun thought, his eyes catching the light as he did so. “No. Why?” He asked directly, his eyes dropping from Neil’s eyes to his smile before again drifting away. 

“You’ve been what I may call...extra nice to me, lately. We talked about you bringing me food and mothering me into eating and,” Neil held his hands up, predicting Shaun’s interruption, “you’ve been doing much better with that and the sentiment was and is appreciated, thank you. I just want to make sure that you’re not feeling pressured into doing anything extra under any kind of, I don’t know, duress.” Neil watched Shaun’s response with interest, watched him consider Neil’s words with care and scientific precision, the way he did everything. 

Watched as a small smile grew into something broad and wide on Shaun’s face, the whites of his teeth and the pink of his lips causing Neil to draw a surprised intake of breath. 

“You noticed,” Shaun said, pleased, bringing his hands together. “Not just the food but that I am taking care to be nicer to you. You noticed.” Shaun’s smile dropped altogether suddenly, as though remembering he had a task at hand. “And no, I am not under duress, as you said my skills as a doctor speak for themselves. I am an asset to this team and hospital and I do not need to brown nose you to keep my job.”

A bark of laughter escaped Neil, and he didn’t even consider trying to hide it behind his hands when Shaun appeared delighted at the response, the smile returning to his face twice. 

“You have a pleasing laugh,” Shaun said once Neil had quieted. “I like hearing it.”

_God, if only I could allow myself to be so vulnerable_ Neil thought to himself, feeling flushed at the sudden compliment. 

“Thank you, Shaun. You’re very kind, when you want to be. I’m glad I’ve made it to your good side, I’d hate to be on whatever side Morgan’s on.” Neil, without a thought, nudged Shaun’s thigh with his own. He questioned his action when he heard Shaun’s next intake of breath, a deep and shaky thing. 

“Morgan and I get along how we work best together,” Shaun explained, not breaking contact where their bodies met. “I’ve been told, and I’ve been reading, that kind words is one way to...take care of someone, to express...to express a desire to take care of someone.” He spoke with finality, and Neil wanted nothing more than to ask Shaun to explain what he meant further, but Shaun threw him for an entire loop with his next statement. 

“You are the most skilled surgeon that I have ever met, and I think you are the best mentor that I could have.”

Neil lost his breath, the capability to draw air, to exhale it. Instead, he stared at the man before him, his resident, a surgeon, a student, a doctor, a friend, a brilliant man with a biting sense of humor and a million things that he could teach Neil about the world. Crystal-sky eyes, milky white skin, dangerously infectious smile, warm touch, strong and nimble fingers, _to express a desire to take care of someone._

Shaun nudged Neil’s leg under the table and left the room without another word, as he was wont to do. 

*

_“I like the way your belt matches your shoes.”_

_“Thank you for that example of how to explain metastasizing to a child.”_

_“You smell like mangoes. Mangoes smell nice.”_

_“Thank you for letting me lead the appendectomy this morning. Yes, I know we’ve been planning it for days, but thank you anyway.”_

_“Your eyes look the nicest in this lighting.”_

It was 2:37 a.m. when Neil sat straight up in bed, the statements that Shaun had been making to him over the last week or so swirling in a sleep deprived fog in his mind, his heart pounding as the blanket of sleep gave away to stark clarity. 

“They’re words of affirmation,” he said aloud in his empty apartment. He thought about the food… _gifts_...the blanketing, holding the door… _acts of service_...

“Oh.”

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh who knows the resource Shaun is working with? Bonus points if you can guess who pointed him in the direction of said reference ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, there. Spoiler-ish comments to follow in these beginning author's notes, but not in the chapter itself, for the season three finale of the Good Doctor. Read beginning author's notes at your own discretion; it's just me rambling about things that aren't important to the content of the chapter, so feel free to skip.
> 
> I didn't know if I would be able to finish this chapter after last night's finale. I'm kind of a mess, and by kind of I mean I'm a major fucking mess over the season three finale and I've been thinking myself in circles all day about how I was going to have to abandon this fic because it would make me miserable to continue it. And then my wife came along and pointed out that "maybe people will want to read something lovely and fluffy and nice to take some of the hurt away" and so here I am. If you enjoy this chapter and the last two chapters which I PROMISE will eventually come (it's gonna be a struggle, I know myself and when there is a death in a fandom I typically cross it off of my list of fics to read, never mind write), then you have my wife to thank.
> 
> ANYWAY I hope you find some fuzzy, fluffy feels here, and if you're hurting you're not alone and I send you many hugs. Thank you for reading <3

“Claire, I’m going to ask you something that is outside of the boundaries of our relationship of resident and mentor,” Neil said, tugging the laces of his running shoes tightly as he tried to swallow down the nervousness that threatened to keep him holding his tongue. Beside him Claire was doing the same, preparing for an early morning run before their shifts started, something they’d been doing for the past few weeks together. 

Her eyebrow hitched with interest. “Sure? You do that a lot during these runs, you know, with the two of us being friends and all. Why the forewarning?” She stood from where she had been sitting on the bench and started stretching, pulling at her ankles as she bent her legs behind her one at a time. Instead of standing to join her once he was finished fiddling with his shoes, Neil buried his head in his hands. 

“Because I have to talk to you about Shaun.” His voice was muffled in his palms and for a moment he questioned whether or not she heard him, as his statement was met with silence for a long stretch of time. 

“...ah,” was Claire’s response, and it was _knowing_ , enough so that Neil pulled his gaze upward and watched as Claire slumped back down on the bench beside him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve been waiting for this, you know.”

Something in Neil’s rib cage flitted about; a butterfly, trapped. “So it was you, then? You were the one who told him to read it?”

Claire tilted her head. “Oh, uh. Maybe I haven’t been waiting for this? What are you talking about?”

Neil narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What are _you_ talking about?”

Her cheeks flushed as she stammered, obviously feeling caught. The butterfly beat its wings harder when she licked her lips and answered. 

“You’re not an idiot, Neil. Frankly, I’m surprised it took you this long to notice the-” she twirled a hand in the air nonchalantly, “-doting.”

Neil snapped his fingers. “Yes. That’s exactly the right word. Doting.” He thought for a moment, focusing on the sidewalk beneath his shoes, on nothing at all as he did so. “Huh. I guess I never really realized that that’s all it all boils down to, isn’t it? Every language of love really boils down to doting on the object of your affections.”

Claire had again gone quiet and it took Neil a few moments to notice. When he glanced back up at her, he laughed in surprise. 

“Where’d your eyebrows go? They seemed to have disappeared somewhere...up…” Neil leaned over and flicked at the top of her hairline; she swatted him away, the look of surprise still lingering on her face. 

“Yeah, well, forgive me. I thought we were going to talk about how Shaun’s been Mother Hen-ing you and you’re spouting off about love. I feel like I’ve missed something major. Are congratulations in order?”

Neil’s mouth fell open at the implication, and clacked shut painfully when the traitorous voice in his head supplied him with the unhelpful thought of _no_ followed immediately by _not yet_. 

Where had _that_ come from?

“Shaun’s been...experimenting with the love languages, I think. Are you familiar with them? Chapman, guy in the early 90’s, a pastor I believe, wrote this book to help couples learn the best way to attune to each other’s needs via their love language. There are five of them, and it hit me the other night that I think Shaun has been testing them.”

Claire had been nodding along, a look of familiarity in her eyes. When Neil stopped talking, she appeared lost in thought. “Testing them...on you.”

Neil nodded once, curt. “On me.” Neil ran down the list of events that had led him to his conclusion, leaving out bits that felt a bit too personal, too _cherished_ to share with her. He wrapped up by sharing the incident that had happened during their last shift together, just one example of how Shaun had become more tactile over recent days. 

“He rubbed your shoulders?!” Claire exclaimed, her voice hitching at the end as though scandalized. Neil rolled his eyes, although he couldn’t keep the goofy grin from spreading across his lips. 

“He released a myofascial trigger point. Deftly and goddamn painfully, might I add, and after a seven hour surgery.” Neil leveled Claire with a glare, damn the smile on his face. 

Claire snorted ungracefully. “He rubbed your shoulders. He _volunteered_ to rub your shoulders. Shaun Murphy. Jesus. What should I wear to the wedding?”

“Shut up,” Neil groaned, elbowing her in the side before standing to start their run. “First of all, I said I think he’s practicing. Who’s to say that Morgan or someone didn’t give him the book and tell him to go to town, like a dry run? Maybe he wants to woo someone else. A nurse, or Lea, or who the hell knows. And also,” he cut Claire off, her mouth opening quick as lightning, “a wedding would imply that I reciprocate any feelings of affection past that of a supervisor-resident relationship, if there are any feelings of affection to reciprocate.”

Claire stood up then, placed one hand on each of his shoulders and faced him head on. He looked down, locked eyes with her, and listened carefully. 

“Neil Melendez, there is no way in hell that you are this stupid.”

And with that, she turned and quite literally ran away from him. He followed after, cheeks warm, mind whirling.

*

The stars were out that night, bright enough in skies clear enough to be seen even through the lights of the city. Neil was grateful for the late hour, grateful for the broken light post that typically kept Shaun’s bench illuminated, grateful that they still had thirteen minutes until Shaun’s bus would come to take him home. 

Grateful that Shaun had decided to sit directly beside Neil rather than leaving a seat’s worth of space on the bench. He hadn’t even hesitated, hadn’t broken a single stride in their conversation, although he had given Neil a quizzical look when Neil hadn’t given his standard farewell after they reached the bus stop bench, choosing to take a seat to wait with Shaun instead. 

Directly after finishing his thought about the patient discharge plan that they had just finished signing off on, Shaun launched into the line of questioning that Neil had expected. “Why are you waiting with me?”

Neil smiled and settled back into the bench seat, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. He leaned his head back, resting his neck against the back ledge of the seat, and turned his face to look over to Shaun. Shadows played over his resident’s features, highlighting tired but bright eyes, smooth skin, dark brows and pink, bowed lips. 

There was a swarm of them now, butterflies inside of Neil’s chest, coupled with a warm, low pool of heat settling into his core, and it was with a gust of breath and a flicker of fear that Neil threw caution heedlessly into the night when he responded with a quiet-

“I wanted to see what would happen next.”

Shaun’s breath hitched and his milky cheeks pinked, but to his credit he didn’t turn away or fluster any more than usual. 

“Oh,” he said, sounding a bit startled, a caught criminal. “I.” Shaun paused and his gaze shuttered as Neil had watched it do thousands of times. He waited patiently, knowing that Shaun was working something out internally in whatever way he saw fit to do. Sure enough, within the minute, Shaun turned those eyes to Neil with a resolve that hadn’t been there before. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to put my hand on your knee.” 

If the request had come from anyone other than Shaun, Neil would have found it unusual. From Shaun, he found it many things, but none of them strange; mostly, it sounded perfect. 

“I don’t mind.”

With only slight hesitation, Shaun maneuvered himself so that the right side of his body was aligned with the left side of Neil’s, from their shoulders down to their knees; Shaun’s long arm edged over to Neil’s upper thigh, his broad hand spreading to cover the top of Neil’s slack-clad knee where Shaun rested his palm. Neil could feel the warmth of Shaun’s hand sinking through to his skin, the weight of Shaun’s forearm pressing slightly down on his thigh grounding him where he sat. Before Shaun became completely comfortable, Neil extended his left arm to rest over the back of Shaun’s seat, preventing it from getting trapped between their bodies. 

When they stilled, Neil let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding, and when he looked at Shaun, Shaun looked back at him, and their smiles matched each other almost instantly. 

“Comfortable?” Neil asked after a minute, willing his heart to slow down, cursing internally at himself for reacting so strongly to an innocent, friendly touch. 

“I am comfortable, thank you. Are you? Is this...odd, to you?” Shaun asked. 

Neil considered. “No, it’s not odd. It’s unexpected, and I’m not entirely sure what’s happening or why you’re doing what you’re doing, but it’s not...unwelcome.” Neil thought for a moment. “As long as you know that this will get you no special treatment.”

A squeeze to his knee. “Yes, Neil, I know. If you tell me one more time I might scream.”

Shaun’s dry tone made Neil chuckle. “Fine. Message received. How much longer until your bus?”

Shaun didn’t bother to check his phone or watch. “Four minutes.”

Neil made a small noise, and it sounded more wounded than he had intended. Four minutes, when they had just had triple that? It wasn’t _enough_. 

Neil bit his lip, wondering, thinking, ruminating in the span of a few seconds before moving his arm ever so slowly, glacially pacing in order to give Shaun the chance to move should he want to. Shaun didn’t not even when it became apparent what Neil’s intentions were, and Shaun actually leaned back into the feel of Neil’s arm when it came to rest atop Shaun’s shoulders, draping around the back of his neck. Neil loosely gripped Shaun’s far shoulder with his hand and simply held, blood rushing and pulse pounding in his own ears when he brushed his thumb slowly, agonizingly slow over the crest of Shaun’s arm. 

“That feels very nice,” Shaun said, looking directly at Neil. “I feel safe with you.”

Neil found himself taken aback with the sudden feeling of his eyes stinging, and like _hell_ if he was going to head down this deep a path when their conversation was going to get cut off in two minutes by a bus. 

“That’s...I’m glad, Shaun. I want you to feel safe with me. I like your words of affirmation.”

And with that, Shaun froze, his body going rigid both beneath Neil’s hand and where his hand rest on Neil’s knee. Shaun’s eyes grew wide and _shit_ nope, Neil wasn’t going to allow Shaun to feel an iota of shame over this. 

“I also like the gifts, but less. The acts of service are also nice but sometimes I’m an asshole, and get really wrapped up in my own pride and get defensive when people try to do too much for me. And this?” Neil squeezed Shaun’s shoulder and pointedly glanced at Shaun’s hand on his knee. “I’m a big fan of physical touch. And I know you’re not, and I hope you would tell me if you don’t want to be doing what you’re doing right now. I’ll actually be kind of pissed if you're doing any of this against your own wishes.”

“I’m not...averse to all physical touch,” Shaun said slowly, considering. “And you should know how difficult it is to get me to do something that I don’t want to do.”

Neil laughed out loud at that, because the truth rang clear. To his relief, he noted that Shaun appeared to have relaxed. He continued the ministrations with his thumb on Shaun’s shoulder. 

“I don’t want you to feel called out, or embarrassed. I don’t even necessarily want to pressure you to explain yourself because I’m trusting that you will in due time. You want to know what I do want?” 

Shaun met Neil’s eyes, and Neil couldn’t help the smirk that took over his face. 

“I want to know what your plan is for quality time. Do surgeries count? Does a twelve minute wait for the bus count? Because I gotta say, I might feel a bit cheated.” His tone teasing, Neil felt his grin bloom at the sarcastic glare that crossed Shaun’s face. 

“You’ll know when you know,” Shaun said cryptically, and Neil tutted. 

“Shaun, no, that’s not fair! Are we going to do something outside of the hospital?”

Shaun smiled widely then, and patted Neil’s knee when the bus pulled up to the curb. 

“That’s for me to know and to tell you later.”

Neil let out an exasperated groan. “This is cruelty! Harsh and undeserved punishment!”

Shaun smiled at him as he walked up to the door to the bus. “Goodnight, Dr. Melendez,” Shaun called out. Neil returned the smile with a nod of his head and a small wave, feeling lighter than he had in days. 

*

Neil managed to wait until he was sure Shaun would be home from his walk after getting off of the bus before he texted him. 

**Neil:** Lunch in the hospital cafeteria doesn’t count as quality time, either. 

_Shaun:_ I understand.

_Shaun:_ Your definitions of quality time are incredibly demanding. No surgeries, bus stop waits, cafeteria lunches. 

_Shaun:_ You are going to struggle with coming up with new ideas for how we can spend quality time together in the future, as we are both surgeons.

_Shaun:_ Unless you enjoy monotony. 

**Neil:** Monotony wouldn’t be all bad, with present company. Although I don’t think any moment with you would actually be monotonous. So. I stand by it; no surgeries, no hospital lunches, no waiting for the bus. 

**Neil:** Wait, do you see us spending a lot of quality time together in the future, Shaun?

_Shaun:_ Goodnight, Dr. Melendez.

**Neil:** Don’t you dare Dr. Melendez me, Murphy!

**Neil:** And sweet dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

The opportunity for quality time wouldn’t present itself for another two weeks because, as Shaun had been correct to point out, the life of a surgeon was rarely relaxing or predictable, particularly the life of a resident supervisor, or that of a resident. Not that Neil would have it any other way; being a man of pride was at times a flaw, one that he recognized and tried to keep in check, but one that he also tried his hardest to turn into an advantage for others. He was a damn good surgeon, and knew that while he might find further stability or a more standard work schedule elsewhere, it would be selfish to keep his knowledge and skills from inquiring, learning minds. 

He could never find a way to explain it to anybody else that didn’t make him sound like an asshole, but well. C’est la vie. And it wasn’t as though he really minded spending most of his time at the hospital with his residents anyway, specifically now. Though he had discounted their professional time together as quality time, time to...explore whatever it was that Shaun ( _just Shaun?_ ) was trying to explore, he found himself reveling in it, making his way to work with more fervor than he had in years. 

Things between him and Shaun didn’t feel as awkward as Neil had half expected them to following their conversation at the bus stop. There was a bit of stumbling, all of it on _Neil’s_ part, and none of it when the two of them were working together on a case, or as part of the team. It was in the quiet moments; catching each other before or after shifts, in the cafeteria, in the resident’s lounge or the staff room, once at the nurse’s station when Shaun had smoothed Neil’s shirt collar down in the middle of a conversation about how Shaun had been overly callous when delivering a prognosis to their previous patient. 

It had brought Neil up short; he hadn’t been berating Shaun, no more than he would sternly discuss a performance issue with anyone on the team in his no-nonsense approach, and Shaun had been reacting as expected, as Neil had grown to count on. Confusion, slight frustration that was easier to keep at bay the longer Neil kept talking and the clearer the explanation, Shaun’s tone slightly more snappish in a way that Neil knew to no longer take personally, as it was Shaun’s annoyance at his own perceived shortcoming, his own wonderment at why he couldn’t just be honest, straightforward and fact-based with their patients as he would want others to be with him. 

And in the middle of it all, Shaun’s long and nimble fingers found their way to Neil’s collar and gently rearranged, tucked and smoothed, and in an instant Neil felt an inner spark acknowledging that this? This thing, whatever it was? It was going to be okay. Hell, if Shaun was getting to the point of instinctively and without thought or question reaching out to _touch_ and _fix_ Neil in the middle of Neil doing something that would normally rub Shaun the wrong way? With the way that the simple act had taken Neil’s breath away, stolen the words from his mouth and the thoughts from his mind until his singular focus was on the ghosting pressure of Shaun’s fingertips above his collarbone, even after they were lifted and gone?

Hell, this thing was going to be _good_. 

*

Neil had sixty hours off in the middle of the week, and it was as rare a gem as Marcus ever handed him. Two and a half days where Audrey would field the residents, Neil could run the errands that had been piling up in his calendar for weeks (some of them months, much to the chagrin of his car’s oil tank), find the time to actually visit the pool in his complex, make it through a bit of his Netflix queue and catch up on blessed sleep. 

He managed most of the errands on the first day, including the godforsaken oil change, mailing out overdue birthday gifts to multiple family members at the post office, hitting up the market and getting a new espresso machine. He went for a run while the sun set, showered, and fell asleep three episodes into the newest season of Mindhunter. 

It was glorious and he slept deeply, curled beneath the blanket on his couch, until his phone chimed beside his head at 8:15 the next morning. 

_Shaun:_ I do not work today. 

The butterflies stirred, and just as he had been deeply asleep just moments before, Neil was suddenly wide awake and thrumming with nervous energy. The text in and of itself was nothing but informational; the purpose behind it was clear as day, at least Neil hoped it was as he responded back with his address before he could question it, before he could talk himself out of it. He was great at doing that, after all; convincing himself that there were reasons why he shouldn’t do what he wanted, shouldn’t have what he wanted. 

What he wanted was quality time with Shaun, to have breakfast, and to swim in the pool in his complex. And so after he sent his address, he quickly followed up, the faint words of _fuck it_ drifting to the forefront of his mind. 

**Neil:** What time will the bus drop you? I can have breakfast ready. 

**Neil:** And if you have one, bring your swimsuit.

_Shaun:_ 8:47. I have a swimsuit. I was not prepared to spend time on a beach, do I also need sunblock?

Neil bit back a smile until he realized he was alone in his own apartment. It blossomed full force on his face, and he stood up to make his way to his room to change as he responded. 

**Neil:** We can go to the beach if you want. I was thinking about the pool in my apartment complex. It’s never usually busy when it’s so nice outside, everyone uses the outdoor pool, and I haven’t gotten to use it since it’s been remodeled. What do you think of having a day in?

_Shaun:_ I am more amenable to a day in. Thank you for inviting me. I will be there soon, with my swim suit. Should I bring anything else?

**Neil:** Just your sunny disposition, Shaun ;)

_Shaun:_ Where would you suggest I get one of those? 

_Shaun:_ Don’t tell me. Wherever you got yours sold you a defunct product. I don’t want to know. 

Neil snorted as he pulled a new shirt over his head, a black cotton t-shirt that felt gloriously comfortable compared to the starchiness of his button ups for work. He debated on wearing slacks or jeans, shaking his head immediately. Shaun was coming to his home, off the clock, to spend time as...friends? To spend time as something _other than_ , and Neil fiercely grabbed a pair of basketball shorts from a drawer, determined that if he were going to spend quality time with Shaun on a day off, then Shaun would receive genuineness from him, as he always did when Neil was in a supervisory capacity. 

**Neil:** You’re not even here yet and you’re already giving me hell. Is this what I have to look forward to?

_Shaun:_ Yes.

**Neil:** Perfect.

_Shaun:_ :)

_Shaun:_ Lea said I should try using emoticons during texting to express feelings. I don’t like it. It makes me feel silly. 

**Neil:** Then don’t do it, Shaun. Although you sending a smiley face emoji was pretty adorable 0:)

_Shaun:_ I do not like you. I’m staying home. 

**Neil:** Shaun. You have to already be on the bus. That was a nice shot at sarcasm, though. I’m proud of you. 

_Shaun:_ Is THIS what I have to look forward to?

**Neil:** :)

_Shaun:_ Perfect.

*

When Shaun knocked on the door to the apartment, Neil had just set down a bowl of fruit in the middle of the table and was finishing chastising himself for how close he had come to whistling for the third time since waking up. He felt good; happy, eager, well rested. The air in the apartment smelled like eggs and spices, potatoes, peppers, fresh cut melon. His espresso machine worked wonders, and the orange juice that he poured for Shaun in place of coffee was vibrant. He couldn’t help but to think that just the expectation of having Shaun in his home made his space brighter. 

When Neil opened the door Shaun stood there straight, backpack worn on his shoulders, looking relaxed in dark, worn jeans, a deep red button up shirt and his blue jacket. His shoes were different; oddly enough, it was the first thing Neil noticed. 

“You’re wearing Converse.” It tumbled out of his mouth, but before he could feel like a jackass he quickly forgave himself at the small smile on Shaun’s face. 

“Yes. I prefer them, but they’re not hospital appropriate. Should I take them off when I come inside?”

Shaun’s question reminded Neil that he was still standing there just _looking_ , and he stepped back quickly, letting Shaun come in past him before closing the door. The air around Shaun smelled simple and clean; soap, shampoo, no scent of the hospital. Different. Good. 

_Home._

The air punched from Neil’s lungs, he cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’d be good. You can set your bag wherever you like, I have the table set for breakfast. I, um.” Neil’s hesitance and his slight frustration over said hesitance caused Shaun to turn from his task of removing his shoes, and the air filled with awkward. 

“I like them. Your shoes. I never thought I was cool enough to pull off wearing them, but you are. They suit you.”

Shaun’s face lit up, both figuratively and literally, his cheeks staining red, and Neil made it a goal to shower him with words of affirmation as much as he possibly could throughout the day. 

Breakfast was a great way to break the ice and ease into a pleasurable way to ease into a different kind of rhythm; while Neil had been somewhat anxious that any discussion may turn towards cases or patients, instead he found them talking about favorite foods and aversions, Shaun’s preferences and recent explorations into recently unexplored culinary territories, benefits of foods on physical and mental health. It was easier than Neil had expected, for reasons that he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why he had expected it to be difficult, that is; it was clear why it was easy. 

“You’re really interesting to talk to, Shaun,” Neil said, folding his napkin and tossing it onto his empty plate. He opened his mouth to continue, to tell Shaun that he wished he would speak more openly with the team should the time come when he felt more comfortable doing so, but he abruptly stopped at the look on Shaun’s face. “Shaun, what?”

“What do you mean by that? What does it mean, that it’s ‘interesting’ to talk to me?” Shaun’s voice, while not cold, was sharper and more barren than it had been just seconds before, and the gears in Neil’s mind whirred, the term obviously having a negative effect, having triggered a negative connotation for Shaun. 

Before answering, Neil leaned forward and placed his hand palm up on the table. Shaun didn’t move. 

“Shaun, I’d like to touch you while I answer your question. Can I see your hand?”

Shaun moved slowly but surely and Neil sagged with relief as Shaun’s hand rested over his. Neil covered the back of Shaun’s hand with his second, grasping it between both of his own. Shaun’s hand was cool and dry, longer than Neil’s own, and Neil wondered absently if Shaun’s fingertips on his wrist were picking up the uptick in his pulse at their contact. 

“I meant exactly what I said. Having conversations with you is fun, and you say things that interest me. I like talking to you, learning from you, hearing your feedback. Is that...do you not want me to say that, to you? That I find you interesting?” Neil watching his own fingers draw idly over the back of Shaun’s hand as he spoke, unable to discern if he was avoiding eye contact for Shaun’s benefit or his own. 

Shaun let out a breath. “No. It is-no. People have said that before in a way to say that I’m strange or funny to them, when I’m not trying to be, and they thing I’m too stupid or ignorant to know what they mean. I didn’t think-I know you didn’t mean it that way but I asked anyway. I’m sorry.” Shaun squeezed Neil’s bottom hand lightly. 

“Don’t be sorry, there’s no need. Shaun, if this.” Neil halted, did look up at Shaun then. “If we are going to...do...something, with all of this, it’s important for you to remember something about me. Just like I know it’s nearly impossible to get you to do something you don’t want to do, I will always do my best to say exactly what I mean. Have you known me to do otherwise?”

Neil watched Shaun’s face go through a complex and slippery flip book of emotion as he spoke, a growing feeling of dread creeping up his spine with every word. Oh, god…

“Um. That’s assuming that I’m reading things right, here. I assumed, which thinking about it now might have been stupid, that you were wanting to do something with all of this, with the lo-the love languages. Unless-I talked to Claire and thought that maybe you could be practicing with me, but she seemed to think that was ridiculous, but I shouldn’t have-”

“I am practicing with you because I want for us to do something with all of this, as you put it. I wanted to know the best way to show you affection and so I asked Lea. She gave me the book to read and I believe your love language is physical touch, which is difficult to do at the hospital and without the aspect of quality time. And no, I have not known you to do anything other than say exactly what you mean. Does that clarify everything?”

Neil _whimpered_. 

“You wanted to show me affection.”

“Yes.”

“...you asked Lea how to show me that you had feelings for me, and then you read the book and used the scientific theory to test which love language I responded best to?”

“Yes.”

“What if I hadn’t responded to any of them?”

“Then I would have been sad, but I would have been okay eventually. Luckily, that wasn’t the case.”

Neil felt like he was free-falling, scrambling for purchase, the rug that was the Earth having been pulled from beneath his feet without warning.

“No, it wasn’t the case, was it.” Neil made the statement, and it hung between them. He didn’t know what to do or say, but he did know that in that moment Shaun looked as though Neil had hung the moon, the sun and all of the stars in the sky and if he wasn’t too careful, Neil could become drunk on it, quickly. 

“So,” Neil said, taking a breath and shooting for broke, voice cracking down the middle. 

“Do you want to go for a swim?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is absolute fluff and everything that I needed it to be in order to get it finished :) 
> 
> That said, I appreciate you all to the moon and back, and cannot thank you enough for all of the words of encouragement, for every comment and every kudos! You're all so lovely. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The purpose for spending time at the pool had been to relax. Going to the pool with Shaun had proven to be anything but relaxing. And Neil be damned, it wasn’t due to anything other than poor planning on his part. Poor planning and a complete lack of self-realization. 

Poor planning in that he hadn’t thought ahead to the fact that swimming with Shaun would entail close proximity, leisure engagement, and miles of water-bright skin on open display. 

A complete lack of self-realization in that Neil hadn’t considered how much he would _like_ seeing Shaun just like that; shirtless, hair dripping, legs exposed to show strong calves that held him upright through countless hours of surgery, fingers rippling through water to help keep him afloat. 

“You’re staring,” Shaun noted, a foot in front of where Neil was treading water just the same, having finished swimming a few laps back and forth. The pool was nearly empty, with the exception of a young Dad and his daughter in the shallow end and a woman who had waited patiently for Neil to finish his own laps before beginning her own. Shaun had chosen to merely tread, dipping his head under water once to acclimate, at times pulling himself up by his elbows to balance half out of the water on the edge. 

He looked relaxed and Neil couldn't escape the knowledge that this is what Shaun must look like after a shower, or after being caught in a downpour. The water refracted off of his eyes and shadowed the dips and curves of his throat and his muscles, less defined than Neil’s own but still showing a body well taken care of. 

“I’m-” Neil started, aiming for denial before stopping himself. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I might be staring. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Shaun’s eyes met his for a couple of beats. “What kinds of thoughts are you thinking while you’re staring?”

For the first time in a long while, Neil cursed Shaun’s willingness to run headfirst into the thicket of a discussion that most would avoid, and he felt heat rising from his throat to his cheeks. 

“I’m thinking that-ah. Do you-I’m wondering if maybe it would be a good idea to talk about it we should perhaps-do you think going to human res-”

“I’m not going to report you to human resources for harassment, Neil. I am pursuing a relationship with you outside of being your subordinate and you are not blackmailing me. If we have to have a discussion similar to this one more time, I might scream.” 

There was humor in Shaun’s voice and it calmed Neil instantly, enough to splash a bit of water Shaun’s way, and Shaun shot him an unamused look. 

“Fine. I’m staring at you because I find you attractive.” Neil felt himself cringe. “Ugh, I don’t even like how that sounds. It’s true, and it’s true all the time, but...you’re gorgeous, Shaun, and right now I’m seeing parts of you that I haven’t, and I like what I see.” 

Neil wanted to bury his head under ground. 

Until Shaun smiled and brought his hands together beneath the water, obviously pleased. 

“I also think you are very attractive,” Shaun returned, and Neil snorted, ignoring the way the words made his heart race. 

“Well, I would hope so,” he joked, thinking of the entire ordeal that had led to him _blatantly flirting in a pool with one of his residents_. 

“You also have an impressive ego.”

Neil spluttered, mouth hanging open. “Excuse me? That’s not what I-”

Shaun’s eyes twinkled and the peaks of his fingertips, steepled together, were visible above the top of the water. Neil cut himself off. 

“You can be a real smart-ass, you know that?”

Shaun nodded. “Morgan likes to tell me.”

“Yeah, well. I know I always tolerated her for a reason.”

“No, you don’t. You like her.”

“No, yeah, you’re right, but if you tell anyone I _will_ fire you. Want to go back upstairs?”

“Yes, please.”

*

While Shaun dressed in the guest bathroom, Neil paced back and forth in his bedroom, a small, gift-wrapped package in his hand, mind going a hundred miles a minute as he debated. 

He had been trying to return Shaun’s gestures, both consciously and without thought. Cooking Shaun breakfast, freely giving compliments and affirmations, spending quality time, physical touch. Shaun accepted every gesture and responded to some more than others, but Neil had no idea how he would respond to being given a gift. Nor how he would respond to this gift, in particular. 

Neil felt like he was part of a courting ritual, and while he understood why utilizing a manual and a method may be comforting for Shaun, feeling as though he had one more box left to tick off was making him feel anxious. 

“What are you doing?”

Shaun’s voice from Neil’s doorway interrupted his flow of thinking, and he hurriedly put the small package into the pocket of his shorts, turning his attention to Shaun. Shaun had left his button up unbuttoned over his white undershirt, and his feet remained bare. His hair was towel-dried and tousled, and Neil _ached_ with how comfortable Shaun looked standing in his bedroom doorway. 

“Being ridiculous,” Neil quipped. 

“Oh,” Shaun replied, nodding once. “So, business as usual. Would you like to watch television?”

Neil breathed out a sigh of relief, tried to screw his face into something stern to level at Shaun for the sass, and closed the door behind them as they made their way to the living room. 

To Neil’s pleasant surprise and relief, there was no hesitancy or awkwardness on Shaun’s part as they settled onto Neil’s couch, Neil into the corner and Shaun right beside him, their shoulders and thigh’s brushing. They remained that way for only a moment, until Neil leaned forward for the remote, and when he moved back he found himself settling into the crook of Shaun's arm, the back of his neck resting adjacent to Shaun’s clavicle. 

Neil grinned and cocked an eyebrow up at Shaun. “That was awfully smooth, Murphy.” 

The corners of Shaun’s lips quirked. “I thought so too.”

“Oh my God,” Neil muttered, wholly amused, and they settled, Shaun not saying a word when Neil clicked on the first suggested show to pop up on Netflix.

They were half of an episode into Ozark when Shaun broke the warm and comfortable silence. 

“Would it be rude to ask if I can have the gift in your pocket that I presume is meant for me?”

A shock of panic hit Neil at once and he held his breath, willing it down, knowing that at that point it was a lost cause. 

“Actually, Shaun, it would be rude, but I think you already know that,” Neil admonished, leaning forward and wriggling around until he pulled the small rectangle from his pocket. The paper was a plain blue, the box lite, and Neil hesitated before handing it over to Shaun, who took it gingerly. 

“I have no idea what you’re going to think about this. I couldn’t decide what to get you, but knew I wanted to get you something meaningful, something to show you that I’ve been thinking of you, too.” Neil kept talking as Shaun’s fingers peeled the tape back, one corner at a time. “I know your other one, it had-it must have been important, special. I don’t want to make any assumptions, but I also know that I haven’t seen you with it for awhile and it used to bring you some peace. Maybe you don’t need a new one, or want one, but just know that I don’t mean for this to be a joke or anything li-”

“ _Neil._ ”

Neil fell silent as he watched Shaun set aside the paper and the small, flimsy cardboard box that had held the plastic Fisher-Price scalpel. Shaun held the scalpel in his hands, fitting it into his grip as Neil had watched him do with the other one prior; the fit was wrong, Neil could tell, and the design of the toy was different. 

“It is not the same,” Shaun whispered, and Neil’s heart fell as he braced himself for what could possibly come next. There could be a myriad of reactions, and Neil had known this, had been prepared. 

“This one is special because it came from you, and because you noticed. You noticed. You noticed.”

“I did.”

Shaun took a deep breath and put the scalpel aside as well, gently setting it on top of the box, which rested on the coffee table. He turned toward Neil and his hands were squeezing his own knees so hard, his knuckles were white with the force. 

“I want to kiss you.”

Neil felt his lips part in surprise and the butterflies threatened to escape his body, his nerve endings firing in all directions at once, his voice escaping him to say the only thing he could, the only truth he had to offer. 

“I want that, too.”

Shaun wasn’t hesitant, but he was somewhat unsure of himself, and Neil met him halfway, leaning forward and being careful to place his palm behind Shaun on the back of the couch rather than around Shaun himself, not wanting to overwhelm him. God knew it was nearly enough to overwhelm Neil when their mouths met, soft and dry, tender but made firm when Shaun seemed to decide that he liked the pressure of it, leaning into it further after a short moment. Neil didn’t mean to _hmm_ as he opened his lips but he did so all the same, allowing Shaun to take his top lip between his, Shaun’s bottom lip resting full between his own. 

It was for all intents and purposes an innocent and chaste first kiss, but Neil didn’t get the memo and when they parted after only a few seconds he felt electrified, wound tightly and giddy, sparking at the seams. 

“Wow,” he said, eyes opening to find Shaun’s own blue eyes close, wide and looking surprised. 

“If we talk to HR tomorrow,” Shaun blurted, startling Neil slightly, “can we do that whenever we want to?”

Neil laughed, his joy overflowing, making a mental note to send Lea a thank you card and a bouquet of flowers sometime soon as he nodded his acquiescence. 

“Yeah, Shaun. As long as you promise not to bring up HR again for the rest of the day, we can do it again right now.”

Shaun agreed, enthusiastically.


End file.
